


We Stitch These Wounds.

by TheGhostOfYou



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bipolar Disorder, Depression, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mentions of suicide attempt, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad with a Happy Ending, mentions of past violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-25 08:30:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6187507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGhostOfYou/pseuds/TheGhostOfYou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey's here to get this sister, to take her home. He never expects to bring the doe-eyed redhead with them. </p><p>Mickey never expects to fall in love with him either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No trigger warnings as such here. Just a very brief hint to Mandy's suicide attempt.

The skies are grey today, in an unsettling way. The clouds blocking out the sun and making noon as dark as the evening should be. Mickey's thinking rain, maybe even a full-blown storm, and he hates that out of all day's, today would decide to look this. 

Today, his sister, Mandy, she gets her freedom back. She walks out of the centre, after what, nearly a year? Mickey would have hoped she'd come out to a shining sun, the promise of good times to come. Instead, she'll be met with this gloomy doom that hangs, heavy in the air. 

Driving with both hands loosely around the wheel, Mickey sucks in a breath, looking for a spot that wasn't already home to a car. It's far, but eventually he manages to pull up, killing the ignition. 

He looks around, before wiping at the fresh spring of tears in his eyes. That happens a lot, lately. Mickey's sure he has cried more this past year, than ever in his life. He'd never dare to have done it so much before, it would have been a waste of time, wearing him down. But the circumstances changed, and now most nights don't go by without the appearance of tears. 

Fighting to make sure his face is completely composed, because he can't let Mandy see him like this. He has to be strong for her, there's no other way to think about it. 

So, when finally the last shuddering breath has passed, Mickey pulls the car door open, taking short steps towards the main door of the building. It bothers him, the look of it. So standardised, so dull, no cheer to the place whatsoever. As if the people inside needed any more of that. With a heavy heart, he walks over to the reception.

The receptionist is in her early twenties. Blonde hair curled, and put back in a ponytail. She looks at him, a small smile. "Can I help you, Sir?"

Mickey takes a minute to find his voice. "Yeah. Yeah, I, uh, came here to pick up my sister. Mandy Milkovich." 

She nods, pulling out a pair of glasses to look over a list, stopping her manicured finger at the name. "Ah, you must be Mickey." The lady, pulls the cordless phone off of its stand and speaks to someone on the other line, before pointing towards a door on the right. "If you'd just go that way, Mr. Milkovich. She'll be through the doors." 

He nods, thanking her with a smile, because right now words fail to leave his throat. It's tight, constricted. There's no need to be nervous, he's played it out in his head again, and again. Mickey will keep Mandy safe, to his dying breath. But still his palms sweat uncomfortably. There's not much he's been trusted with, most of his life, but when it comes to his sister? Mickey is sure, that this time, he won't even allow himself to slip up. This isn't a deal he's conducting for his old man, it's the life of someone he loves.

The heavy metal doors buzz open, allowing Mickey to walk into another generically set up room. It's white, blindingly so. The drapes, the floor, even the walls. Then in a awful green colour, are couches, a wooden table between them. He forgets about all that soon enough, because standing by the window in the clothes he left here last week is Mandy. 

"Hey, Mands." Mickey says softly, but still loud enough to catch her attention. He's walking towards his sister slowly, arms already outstretched to bring her into them.

She turns with a jerk, a wide open-mouthed smile. She's launching herself at him. "Mick, hey. You look really nice." Her hands are straightening out the crease in the deep blue shirt he has on. 

Taking in the sight of her, instead of just responding, Mickey buries her against his chest. She fits there again properly, finally gaining back all the weight that had been lost. Her skin is glowing again, eyes no longer dead and drowning. He's waited so long to see her this healthy again. The greatest relief however, comes from knowing it won't be just a short visit, he gets to walk out with her this time. It makes every reserve from this morning melt away.

He presses a kiss to her temple. "So do you." They separate, and Mickey helps her to one of the couches, until they're settled side by side. "Fuck, Mandy, I can't believe you're going home. I did you up a room. Well, at least what my neighbour thought was acceptable for a teenage girl." 

"Well, thank fuck, you'd have probably thought My Little Pony, and I'd be stuck looking at Rainbow whatever-her-name-is every night." Mandy laughs, light and easy. But then she's quiet, chewing on her lower lip. "Mick..."

This sudden ice creeps up Mickey's spine at the sudden change in Mandy's behaviour. His gut feeling telling him to prepare for another year, another bump. "What's wrong? You're okay, right? Mandy?" His voice is cracking.

She puts a hand on his shoulder immediately, pressing down gently. "No, no. Not me, don't worry. Everything is fine with me." She looks guilty until he finally calms down. "It's just, you remember Ian, right? The guy I've been telling you about. See, his, relationship with his family is so fucked. But he's gonna get out sometime this week, I spoke to Dr. Adams... She said if it's okay with you, maybe he could come with us. Please, Mickey... He's got no where else to go." 

Mickey sighs, nodding his head. Yes, he remembers the name well. She talks about him every time, how much of a support he's been, how she can depend on him here. Mickey knows him as the person who reached out, and saved Mandy from drowning waters when no one else could manage. How can he even think of saying no after that? He owes the guy one, and many more.

"Yeah, okay. Ian can, uh, come home with us. Spare bedroom is his." He nods again, pulling her bouncing self, into another hug. He stands up then. "I'll just go get it sorted with the Doc." 

She beams as he moves back towards reception. "Thanks, bro. This, means a lot to me." 

He closes his eyes, against a wave of something he just can't quite identity. If only she knew how much he'd be willing to do, so he could always see her like this. 

Once back with the blonde from before, Mickey finds out which room he can find Mandy's doctor in today, and he moves in that direction. There's no reason to overthink this. It's something he's sure will help Mandy in her recovery, someone at home with her when Mickey has to be at work. He can afford it, at least with the way things are currently going. And then there's the fact that the poor kid is better with them, then to be out on the streets. Doing God knows what, with God knows who. 

He knocks on the office door while running a hand through his hair. "Dr. Adams?" 

The door opens wide for him after a second, and he's met with her seemingly always cheery voice. "Mickey. Hello, it's so good to see you." She ushers him in, moving back to the post behind her desk. "How's work? Please, take a seat."

"Work's not bad. S'good to know I got talents beyond being dad's errand boy." It's all said with minimal humor, as Mickey slides into one of the leather seats of the two chairs on the opposite side of the desk. 

"Never sell yourself short, Milkovich. It's what I told you last time." The doctor peers over at him over her thick rimmed glasses, stacking papers as she does. 

Shaking off the unwelcome topic of family, and past, and events Mickey would rather not talk about, he starts, eager to get back to his sister. "So, um, Mandy says she spoke to you about Ian? He seems like a decent guy, I just wanted to let you know I got no problem taking him, too." 

Passing him a sheet of paper and a pen, the doctor points to a place for his signature. "Then just sign here." She sits back, arms folded on the desk in front of her. "You know I don't usually agree to sent patients home with anyone else but family, but in this case, that boy needs anyone else around him for now. Mandy's his bestfriend. You sure about this?" 

Initials put into the given lines, Mickey looks up at her, teeth sink into the lower swell of his lips. He never even thought about something like this, till now. But the decision came pretty clear to him. He nods. "It'll be good for 'em to stick together." Pushing the paper back to her, he does what else comes so naturally. He thanks her. "Look, Doc, I don't think I can ever find the words to thank you, and God, everyone else here... But she's okay now, that's all I've fucking needed. Thank you." 

She stands up as Mickey does, and they share a firm handshake. Her smile is so genuine. "It's what we do, Mr. Milkovich." Letting go of his hand, she picks up the phone. "Go get them something good to eat. I'll just ring up someone to let Ian know. He'll be in the same room as her. Take care, okay?" 

"You too, Doc." He waves, one foot out the door, before closing it quietly behind him. 

Mickey's sure where to go this time, so he doesn't bother the lady at the front desk. Waiting for the metal door to open again, so he can step back into that freakishly white room. Mandy's still sitting on the same couch, next to who he presumes is Ian. 

Ian's possibly the most beautiful thing he's ever laid eyes on. The kind, who reminds him of sculptures from pictures of Italy. He's got this fiery ginger head of hair, all pointing up other than these two stubborn locks still on his forehead. He's all pale skin, dusted with light freckles which dissappear under the black full sleeved t-shirt that hugs his chest so nicely. And his eyes? So mossy, flecked with grey. They're big, and round, and just staring at Mickey; swallowing him. 

He forces himself to look away, to stop staring at the perfect little bow of Ian's lips. He coughs, clears his throat. "Not to sound like an old man, Kids. But let's get going. Really wanna' beat rush hour." It's said with a small chuckle. 

Mandy's up out of her seat, and already beside Mickey before any real time can pass, but Ian's slower, timidly moving towards tbe set of siblings. He looks so torn.

And with a small voice, he speaks. "You don't have to do this..." Lost, and out of place, he shrugs his shoulders at Mickey. "No one wants a stray." 

It makes Mickey's heart sink, and he refuses to imagine Mandy in this situation. Alone, neglected, afraid to burden someone. He answers Ian before she can. "Come on, Man. Don't think of yourself like that. You're this little devil's friend." He winds an arm around her shoulders. "You got a place with us as long as you want it. Let's go, I wanna do you both a favor and stop at a decent burger joint." 

A small smile begins to develop on Ian's lips until finally, it's taken over most of his face. He nods, walking out after Mickey, close to Mandy, where everyone would imagine he's most comfortable. They wave the receptionist a farewell before going out, into the world beyond metal doors and regulated lifestyles.

Leaving the pair of friends at the entrance, Mickey goes to bring the car around. Sliding the windows down because it's getting to stuffy in there without that. He calls out to them to get inside.

Her place secured as the front seat, Mandy carelessly fumbles with the radio. "I really want a BigMac, Mick. God, and fries, so many fries. Get driving." She shoves at his shoulder to further emphasise her hunger. 

Flicking his eyes to the rearview mirror, Mickey tries to catch Ian's fleeting gaze. He gives up after a moment, knowing patience is key here. "That sound good to you, Ian? Or we can make a stop somewhere else, too." 

There's a shaking of Ian's head, and again with that same quiet voice from before he speaks. "That's okay with me, really. I'd kinda really kill for a chocolate shake." 

It's a small opening, but Mickey takes it. They've just met, Ian's been through God only know what, it'll of course be some time, before Ian will be comfortable, settle in. "That's what I'm talking about. Fucking love anything with chocolate." 

Mandy takes care of the conversation factor for the rest of the ride, filling in Ian on Mickey. Nothing too personal, of course, just details about his new job, how on the odd days when he cooks, it's better than any meal you can imagine. She's painting this heroic picture of him, and Mickey can't help but have his jaw tightening to a point of uncomfort. He wonders if he's really the person in her head, why he couldn't be of any use when she was in trouble.

Head hung low, and back just staring to soften from its state of tension, Mickey pulls up at the nearest McDonalds. "How 'bout we go inside in eat? Don't wanna be driving with food in my hand." He's stepping out of the car, breathing in the fresh air, regaining lost control. A wayward smile to Ian and Mandy, he gestures them towards the front entrance of the restaurant.

Of course, she skips out ahead of them, claiming that she needs to make a visit to the restroom. That leaves Mickey standing with Ian, who order the food and then find a booth. 

He's not sure how to talk to Ian. So it's a good thing that Ian opens his mouth first. "So, I, uh... I'm supposed to tell you that you're in charge of my meds. Shrinks don't trust me to take them on my own." The redhead's fingers are folded together, looking down at them with shame. 

For the life of him, Mickey can't understand why Ian would feel afraid to ask. After all, Mickey did take on the responsibility of his care. A daily reminder and delivery of pills was like asking for nothing. But then again, these were Ian's feelings, and he'd respect them completely. 

"Yeah, sure. I'll pick them up when I go drop off my stuff at work. We'll sent up a timetable and everythin'. You don't have to worry about it." Mickey smiles at him, and it's gentler than it usually is. He looks down at Ian's hands and shrugs slowly. "It'll probably help me remember to take my own damn medication." 

Red eyebrows are raising slightly, and Ian is propping his elbows up, chin in an open palm. "You mind if I ask... What they're for?" His eyes are shy.

Holding up a finger in signal for Ian to wait, Mickey stands up real quick, only gone long enough to retrieve a full tray of food. He settles back onto the plastic chair and starts talking. "Got a bullet to the leg, couple months back. Bone shattered, and is more or less okay now. But it still hurts like a motherfucker every so often. They gave me something to help with that." It's a completely summarised story of what happened, but the circumstances are too heavy to start describing. All in a box, not yet ready to be opened. 

Almost certain Ian will question what happened, he doesn't, and maybe it's only because Mandy is back in sight, sliding in to the seat next to Ian, immediately scooping up her burger.

Half of it nearly gone in one bite, she makes a sound very similar to a moan. "Holy shit, Ian. Can you believe how long it's been since we've had anything this good? Damn nurses and what they thought was right for our digestive systems." It doesn't take her long to finish the rest of it, after which she leans over, taking Mickey's leftover in her grasp. She smiles adorably at him. "Thanks, big bro. Love you." 

Mickey let's it go, he'd rather she eat instead. To see her enjoy, to see her get excited over something like fast food. He glances over at Ian, too see that even if quietly, he's enjoying it just as much. Mickey laughs to himself. "Alright, I need a smoke. You two join me out in the car when you're all done." He signals a goodbye with a movement of his head, before ducking out of the door, seconds later. 

The nicotine invades his bloodstream, head falling back so that he can close his eyes, could of smoke exhaled through his nose. Numerous times he's thought of quitting, but that's the thing with addictions, they keep drawing you back in. And Mickey? He calls himself a sucker, because he doesn't even try that hard to escape the allure. 

He's stubbing out the second one, when footsteps grow louder and louder, until he's looking up to see his sister standing smack in front of his face. Her face lights up immediately, and arms wave in front of him. 

"Mickey Mouse. Shit, is that something that can stick? One day, we should totally hit  Disney." She's just so much like her old self, that Mickey can't help but marvel. She's too strong for him to even comprehend sometimes.

Shaking his head, Mickey puts one hand on the small of her back, lightly guiding her to the front seat. He looks back to make sure Ian is following, and waits until the two of them are situated properly, before working on his own seat belt. "Oh, and Mandy?" He pushes the gear into drive. "Calling me Mickey Mouse, will result in titty twisters so bad, they'll fall off." Grinning at her and her dismay, his foot hits the gass.

This time around, the drive is much quieter. Mandy is half asleep, her hair covering her eyes from the son, and Ian is too busy staring out the window, dazed, to carry out a conversation. Mickey uses that time then to plan out his next work assignment. It's there in his head, where he hopes it'll stay vivid, until the laptop is back in his hand, programme fired up and ready. Which reminds him that he needs to get the previous one to his boss today. 

The apartment parking lot is mostly empty, since most of the people are already at work. Everyone on the North Side has these lives that never seem to end, but it's not like Mickey would ever complain. Because it sure as hell beats still being stranded with some dead end back in his old neighbourhood. He nudges Mandy, rousing her from the short nap.

Stepping out of the car, and fiddling his fingers in his pocket to find the keys, he calls out. "Oui. Come on, wake up. I gotta' get you settled and head out." The key slips easily into the slot, and the door buzzes and slides open. It's a real nice place, good building, three bedrooms in his part. And honestly for all this, Mickey thanks the company he's working for. It's a small enterprise, limited staff, but minting money. Great salary, a place to stay, and a car. It's more than someone could honestly imagine having, when you're on soil here after growing up South Side. 

Mandy's eyes are open wide. All the way from the elevator, to the room itself. "Shit, Mick.. I know you said you were doing good, but wow, this place is amazing." When the door opens, she's stepping into the small entrance, leading into the well furnished living room. Leather couches, modern decoratives, the plasma screen. "Your boss got the hots for you or something?" 

He laughs, waving an equally entranced Ian in, before closing the door. Mickey drops the keys onto the coffee table, before shrugging. "Couple of gals at work, thought so to. I even waited for him to make the move." He wiggles dark eyebrows, and she snickers. "But no, he just likes his employees to live it up. Speaking of bosses, I gotta get this..." He picks a flash drive out of a whole box full of them. "To him." 

"Don't suck his dick, while you're there." Mandy stops him for a second, and next thing Mickey feels her thinner arms wrapping him up in a hug. "I'm really proud of you. You've really come a long way." 

Mickey fits his nose into her hair for a second. So many people have told him that, but the weightage is so much stonger coming from his sister. "Thanks. And uh, no. I'm not going to go bang the boss." 

Untangling himself from her, Mickey freezes as he remembers Ian is still in the same room. It's not that he's still in the closet, here, but still, his new roommate is allowed their own reservations. Though, instead of even commenting, Ian just smiles at him, slipping over a piece of paper. 

Ian's broad shoulders pull into a shrug, and he sways on his feet. "My prescription. You should find them at just about any pharmacy."

Mickey tucks the paper into the pocket of his jeans, and nods, flipping the USB stick in between his fingers. "Got it, man. Don't sweat it. Just chill back, yeah? I'll be back by dinner. We'll order Chinese or something. Make sure she doesn't break anything." With one last final promise to himself, that everything will be fine, he waves at Ian before heading back down towards the car. 

Now, in the comfort of his own space, Mickey's thanking some heavenly force for this. For having someone to watch her, even though now, he's sure Mandy is well, that she's in a good place. Still, he's so greatful for having Ian up there. It feels good to know she's got more than just him looking out for her. Because as far as he's aware, he won't survive a repeat of last year. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hey, hi. It's been a while. I just wanna first thing, that no, I'm not giving up on the last multi-chap. I got a couple of drafts ready for that one, I'm just a little confused about the direction I wanna take it in.  
> Now this one, I have it planned out start, to finish. I really hope, this first chapter was promising enough to bring ya'll back.   
> On a personal note, I think my meds are finally settling, which means yeah, I'm still on struggle, still kinda off in my head, but I'm powering through, so more chapter updates! (Hopefully, lol)
> 
> Leave me some kudos, and comments. Yes, no, maybe so!?  
> Until next time, beautiful ones. Mwah!


	2. Chapter two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Angst related to weather.

He gets into the office in just enough time to catch his boss heading in for a meeting, all in a hurry, with fingers fumbling to regulate the state of his tie. Mickey smiles, because as far as people who were all over the place, his boss really takes cake. Holding out the USB drive, he helps the other man from a disaster of spilled coffee.

"Mr. Armstrong, Sir. This is last weeks proposal all summed into one sweet ass compilation, if I do say so myself." Mickey makes sure his piece is securely in the hands of his boss, before bringing them around to rest in the denim confines of his pockets. Unwilling to admit it, he's always looking to please, to not screw up. Things fall right into place for him, here, not something that needs to change anytime soon. 

The older man smiles, clapping Mickey on the shoulder with a firm hand. "Atta' boy, I can always count on you. I'll make sure to let you know Kathleen's feedback." He's grinning, and finally able to balance the array of things in his arms, he turns in the direction of a set of double. Not without calling out. "And for hundredth time, Kid... Call me Nigel." 

Shaking his head with a wry smile, Mickey chooses once again, to ignore the suggestion. His boss' name never rolls of the tongue just right. And it really doesn't fit him at all. He's all dark hair, and Christian Grey, aside from the sexual appetite, at least to Mickey's knowledge. Nigel, on the other hand? Sounds more like the name you'd give to a British villain from an eighties action movie. He's moving across the dark carpeting slowly, making his way to his cubicle. The coworker at Mickey's right gets onto her feet, leaning arms down onto the partition. She's a woman with hair the colour of Autumn, this trademark maroon lipstick, and possibly one of the most fiesty women he's ever known aside from Mandy. 

The girl, Anne, reaches over and out of an annoying habit that just stuck, she pulls Mickey's hair out of place slightly. "Hey, McBroody, there isn't a thing for you to do here, so either do my work, or get out." She waves him off with a movement of her hands. "Seriously, Mickey, go spend the day with that sister of yours. God knows people like you need a day off work once in a millennium."

Mickey quirks his lips at her, already moving back onto his feet. "You only want me outta' here so you can fuck your boyfriend over Skype without me watching. Now, as much as I love a little show, I got some things to adjust back home."

Gasping, Anne reaches a hand out to smack him over the head. "You prick, I was just trying to make sure Milkovich siblings had a whole day to bond." She then bats her eyelashes, expression turning coy. "But yes, I would really love to... Talk, to Bernard. Long distance just has me stressed out in so many ways."

She fans herself suggestively, and it earns her a middle finger from Mickey. In recent times, he swears Anne has become the first real friend he has ever had. At first, it was just drinks out at the bar, then dinners with a bigger group of people. But then Mickey became the person she cried to all night when news came that her lover was being sent back to Paris. She stayed him that week, learned all about Mandy, the deal with his father. Anne never ran away, even after all the filth she sat and heard. After that, there wasn't a thing that remained under the covers between them. Mickey would never want it any other way, not that he'd tell her out loud. 

Short distance away from his car, after exiting the office's main doors, Mickey remembers the slip of paper in his pocket; Ian's prescription. The pharmacy he's familiar with is only a couple blocks down, and he finds it makes more sense to just walk than to go through the whole ordeal of parking all over again. So, that's what he does. While walking, Mickey looks up to see the clouds haven't even given the slightest sign to clear up anytime soon. They'll stay that way until the thunder finally comes rolling, and he grimaces at that. Sure, Mickey loves a light shower as much as the other person, but thunder, lightening and storming, all of it makes his skin crawl uncomfortably. It's been that way as long as he can remember, a childhood trauma that crept on and into his adult life. He puffs out a breath, staring up at the sky with unforgiving eyes. 

Pushing past the entrance and going up to the empty counter, Mickey puts the folded paper onto the glass, watching as the chemist pulls out cylinder by cylinder of medication, scribbling Ian's name onto them. 

With a gesture to follow him to the register, the guy questions. "Bipolar, am I right? What's that like?" He rings up the total, giving Mickey a glance at it.

Blank stare stuck on his face, Mickey just shrugs. "I wouldn't know, I'm picking these up for the guy himself. Here." He passes over a credit card, signature put on the line when it's returned back to him with the slip.

"Well make sure your friend takes something to eat before taking these. Or he'll have to hog the bathroom for a long while." He hands Mickey a white plastic bag with the bottles in them, before returning to what he had being doing earlier. A crossword puzzle, by the looks of it. 

Back in his car, Mickey checks the time on his phone. Way too early to just pick up dinner on the way home, so he heads straight there without anymore stops along the way. The whole ride, he can't help but glance at the bag from the pharmacy, every couple of minutes. Granted, he's only known Ian a grand total of five hours, though there's still this unsettling sense of worry that nags at him at the bottles of pills, he's just so clueless as to what it all means.. But if Ian had been allowed out of the institute, then obviously he was in a good enough place, and that's what Mickey tells himself. Still, he'll keep a close eye on the newest member to the small clan. He deserves to have someone looking out for him, as much as Mandy does.

Finally, the apartment is back in sight, and with a back stiff from driving most of the day, Mickey parks with a sigh of relief. Scooping things up into his arms before making way to the entrance and elevator both. His room is all the way up on twelfth floor, so he's greatful this place has one. Twelve flights of stairs is something Mickey promises himself he just can't handle. He wasn't build for extreme cardio, unless it was involving a police chase, or well, a fuck. But that's not his life anymore, so there's no reason to worry. 

Sliding the key into the hole, Mickey allows the door to open, where he finds both Mandy and Ian, sunk low, on the leather couch as they watch some movie with Bruce Lee. They don't even notice his entrance until he drops into one of the arm chairs. 

Mandy stretches her body out, legs flat across Ian's lap as she turns to face Mickey. "Hey, assface. How was work?" She flicks a finger in the general direction of the TV screen, and with a less cheery tone adds. "We tried looking for your porn. Couldn't find any." 

"I don't fucking keep porn out in the open." Mickey snorts, hoping that she never decides to rummage through the drawers in his bedroom for it. It's not something she needs to stumble on, amongst other things. "Work was fine. Actually, gotta' introduce you to this chick I work with. You'd like her." 

Completely ignoring the latter statement, her eyes twinkle and she leans over, nudging Ian in the shoulder. "Hear that, Red? He's got some, somewhere in this place." 

Ian laughs then. And it's so melodic, so carefree, that Mickey replays it in his head over, and over again. The sound is comforting, warm and enough at that, to make ice melt. Mickey takes to the sound more than he's willing to admit at this point.

Instead, he stands up, stretching his arms out, before showing Ian the bag from earlier. "Got your meds, man. Just, uh, tell me what time you hafta' take which ones, and I'll make sure." He pads over to get his laptop before settling back down. 

When Mickey looks up next, Ian's standing in front of him, this sweet smile on his lips. "I wanted to thank you for the meds, and like this..." Ian uses his arm to gesture to the whole room. "Honestly, I don't know where I'd be if it wasn't for you." 

Mickey blinks first, not sure how to respond. He already told Ian it was no problem earlier, but that was as far as what he knows to do in these kind of situations. He's never really had people thank him in the past, show these enormous amounts of gratitude. Other than work, this is all pretty much a first.

So, he just shrugs, hoping his neck isn't turning as red, as it feels hot. "Uh, like I said 'fore, this is just the beginning of my thanks, to you. I owe you one, and maybe you don't see it like that, but I do. So, shut up, and enjoy your movie." No heat to the words, just a smile in return. He waits till Ian is back in his seat, before staring the laptop, and beginning to transfer down the idea swirling in his head from ealier. 

It's nearing seven o'clock in the evening, when after countless cheesy, cliché movies, Mandy groans, pushing Mickey's laptop to the side, so she can sit on the arm of his chair. "I'm hungry. Where's that takeout you were talking about earlier? I want dumplings. Lots of 'em." 

He looks up at her, running a hand, tired from typing through his hair; he nods. "Yeah? Okay, I'll dig out the menu, you two take a look at it." Mickey stops before getting up, just looking at the colour that fills Mandy's cheeks. She'd been so pale recently, so much more than necessary. Inside his head, he's thanking every force out there. 

Getting up, and going through a stack of takeout menu's on the bookshelf, he returns with the one that's needed, passing it on to Ian first. "Here ya' go, man. What'chya feeling like eating?" He reaches for his phone as he waits for an answer. 

Of course, before Ian can, Mandy is squished up against him, pointing out to two different things that are written down in the gold font. And finally, Ian's made up his mind too. Mickey nods at them both, already holding the cellular device to his ear, putting a smile into his voice, as he parrots out the order. The receiver on the other end, gives him a bill amount and time, and the line goes dead after that. 

Mickey's looking at the both of them talk in hushed whispers, arms folded across his chest. He can't make out any of the words, and so soon his head is tilting, to stare blankly out of the large window. It's dark outside, but the abundance of light from street lamps is letting him see the still prominent shapes of large clouds. He's lost in trying to find a pattern in them, when the first roll of thunder is heard. Mickey's entire body jumps with it, and he tries to play it down as nothing more than a cramp in his foot he's trying to resolve.

However, Mandy's caught on. She's known him forever, she's probably the only one who knows him this well. He's spent many storms as a child, with her, but that was such a long time ago now. Mandy remembers though, and she stands up, pulling him over by his arm. Her eyes are filled with this uncharacteristically present sense of worry, and he grits his teeth. She not the one who's supposed to be worried about anything. 

"Hey, Ian. Why don't you tell Mickey about that brother of yours? Maybe they know each other. Same age, pretty much same district we all lived in." Mandy's back to looking like she had before the sound had ever happened, but her grip on her brother doesn't fall. It's the only thing keeping his mind on the things inside this room, rather than the slow approaching storm.

With a shrug, and a look of confusion at the sudden appearance of this topic, Ian eventually starts talking. "Uh, his name was Lip. He was in your year, I'm guessing. Light brown hair, kinda thinks he's above everyone..." Ian stops short after the last part, lips pursed together.

Laughing quietly to himself, Mickey shakes his head. "Phillip Gallagher? That was your brother? Fuck me, the guy was the most pretentious asshat, I'd ever known." Afraid to strike a nerve with his new guest, Mickey is relieved to see that Ian is smiling behind his hand at the description of his brother. "He did a couple of assignments for me, as a favor. Hey, how come I never saw you? Did Mandy know ya' back then?"

Ian shakes his head, hands placed into his pockets as he stares down at the floor. "Spent a lot of time with my mom, back then. Off with her on all these wild... Adventures. Only moved back in with the rest of them a little before last year, and well... I think you get a picture of what happened next. As for Mandy? I only saw her in the hall once, maybe twice. We officially met at the institute." 

A silence settles over them after, Ian uncomfortably toying with the sleeves of his long shirt. Everyone's mouth opens at just almost the same time, desperate to break the tension, but the doorbell buzzes, most likely the delivery guy here with the food. 

Pushing past her brother, Mandy side steps him, holding out a palm. "Give me your wallet, I'm gonna go pay, and take a quick second to check our the pool. I really wanna swim soon." She smiles a thanks as the black leather wallet is put into her grip, hurrying to the door, when the bell sounds again.

This leaves Mickey standing across from a very distant looking Ian. Mickey knows he's lost somewhere in the past, it's that look in his big green eyes. Mickey knows that look. He steps over, running a hand up and down Ian's forearm, saying nothing, because honestly, actions are actually always stronger than words.

For a split second, Ian lifts his head, catching Mickey's eyes before Mandy comes barging back in. There are bags of food is her hands, and the shoulders of shirt are slightly wet. Stepping away from Ian, Mickey glances out, seeing the rain, speeding down from heaves above. He flinches, the storm is here with a vengeance.

They eat mostly in silence, another movie on, the volume turned up so Mickey doesn't have to hear any of the weather. The little conversation that does happen, is only light dinner chat. Mickey would have thought it would have been awkward, making small talk, but he's just happy in the presence of the two. It's good to have company after such a long time. 

"I need a shower. You know, on my own time, by my own liberty. A fucking shower all too myself." Mandy successfully plops the last dumpling into her mouth, standing up then, but not without pinching Mickey's cheek. "You rememberd my favourite shampoo. You're growing soft, bro." She the looks at Ian, before adding on. "The one I like is unnecessarily expensive, but it suits my hair best. Mick would always manage to turn up with it, anyway. He's got pro's, oh, he does." She and Ian share a smile.

Climbing over a set of legs to get away from her spot on the middle of the couch, Mandy dissappears into one of the rooms, closing the door behind her. 

Ian's done eating too, and he helps Mickey load the dishwasher. He then looks up with a small smile. "Can you get me my night pills please? The ones ticked twice on the prescription. Thanks." He takes the last glass for Mickey, putting it in place. 

Mickey nods his head. "Sure, man. Just, uh, give me a second." 

Shaking his hands dry, Mickey goes and fetches the nightly dose, cross checking twice to make sure he has the right ones. He gets a bottle of water out of the fridge, too, passing all of it to Ian, who swallows each one, his Adams apple bobbing. Ian wipes his mouth, before giving Mickey an appreciative nod. 

"I'm gonna get going, to a, bed. Still kinda used to sleeping most of the time. I'll set myself for six o'clock then. Night, Mickey." Ian continues to smile, as he walks over, stopping with his hand on the doorframe and body turned to get out the last words before he, like Mandy retires for the night. "Thanks again.. You're probably the most amazing person I've met, in a really, really long time." 

He holds onto those words the rest of the night, not entirely sure when someone who wasn't Anne used those words, shoving his earbuds in to once more avoid hearing the harsh way the rain hits the window. Mickey tries everything, working, reading, even watching the pending episode of The Walking Dead, but none of it is helping. 

Lightening is flashing, and Mickey screws his eyes shut. He's doing what Ian was earlier, slipping down into the past. He's picturing it now, feeling it even. Small hands covered in dirt, rain pouring down and thunder clapping so loud. Mickey gets up abruptly, browsing the liquor cabinet for the preferred selection for this. Unfortunately, some habits take a lot longer to ditch. 

The glass of amber liquid is nursed, refreshed, and polished down until Mickey finally dares to glance at the clock. It's two in the morning, and the storm hasn't shown any sign of letting up. Mickey can't sleep with it still going on, he just can't manage. He can't escape certain haunting images. 

The door opens softly, and Ian is quietly padding across the hardwood floor, here to fetch his water bottle from earlier. When he turns to head back, his head tilts, Mickey continuing to just stare back at him.

Footsteps are slightly louder when Ian approaches him. "Mickey, you're still dressed... Haven't you gone to bed yet?" No answer, just another shudder at the sound of thunder and Ian looks as if realisation has just dawned on him. He takes a seat next to Mickey. "Not a fan of storms, huh?" 

Snorting into his glass, Mickey downs the last of the scotch, mouth twisting, and not from the strong taste. He runs a tired hand through his dark hair. "It's a long story." Heavy too, but he chooses not to mention that. 

Turning so he's comfortable against a cushion, Ian shrugs his broad shoulders. "I got time. That is, if you wanna talk about it." 

Tongue poking out to wet his lips against the drying effect of the scotch, Mickey eyes growing even more solemn, fix themselves on the wall in front. "I was, uh, six. My sixth birthday actually, and of course, my dad forgot or he didn't care... But um, when I asked him if he knew what day it was? He said, yeah, son I know." Mickey moves fingers to the bridge of his nose, gripping it. "And me, too fucking young to know when to shut up, I asked him why we didn't do anything special, like when mom was still around. That... Really set him off. He went mad, so mad. He made me sleep outside that night, even with this fucking crazy storm going on. I was so fucking terrified. I cried, I begged. Nothing." Dragging a hand down his face, Mickey's other hand pours himself another drink. "Two things I got from that night, is one, this stupid crippling fear of storms. And two, I learned to never ask him about my birthday again." 

Saving himself from saying anymore, Mickey brings the brim of the glass back to his lips, taking down everything it has to offer. He glances over to see Ian, shrunk down, eyes slightly wet. 

"You were just a kid, shouldn't have done any of that. Fuck, Mick... That's, he's fucking sick." Ian looks so agitated, his arms moving by his side restlessly. 

Putting his empty glass down, pushing the bottle aside, Mickey nods his head. "Oh, believe me, I know. Though that wasn't enougt to make me murderous. When I found out what he did to Mandy, though... It took them three cops, my uncle and a sedative to keep me from killing the bastard." Mickey sighs, feeling exposed, it's not a story you just blurt out. "But hey, I'll be fine. Don't worry about it. You gotta' be sleepy, get some rest, man. I don't wanna keep you up." 

Ian shakes his head immediately, eyes kind and warm. "No. No, no way. You're not keeping me up. I'd gladly sit this out with you. Keep you company. Really, it's no problem." 

"Well, you certainly woke me up with all this noise." Mandy, in her pajama pants comes over to them. She yawns. "Mick, you can't drink yourself to sleep, you're a pain, hungover." She then pushes both men apart, settling between them. Her arm is around Mickey's waist, head on his shoulder. "Tonight, I'm gonna be a real sweet sister and sleep right here, next to you. So you better make me waffles tomorrow."

She's cuddling into his body, already drifting back off when Mickey finally caves in, settling against her. He looks over, to see Ian on Mandy's other side, promptly hugging a large pillow to his chest. By the looks of it, he won't be up much longer either.

Sure, it takes Mickey at least another half and hour to fall asleep. But the soft snores, the presence of his little sister, even Ian, and Mickey's mind finally feels calm enough to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO AS YOU CAN SEE, Ian×Mandy×Mickey. Is my favourite-ist trio ever. And be prepared to see so much amazing love between Milkovich siblings. Just need some, you feel me?
> 
> So, I've been writing this one for the last couple days, bit by bit. But today, being caught at the hospital I finally had enough time to get it done. *applauds myself* 
> 
> I hope you're still digging it, and yes, Mickey and Ian will get more interaction real soon!  
> Leave me some kudos, and comments? Yes, no, maybe so!?  
> Until next time, you guys stay fresh and fiiiine. Mwah!


	3. Chapter three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No trigger warnings in this one.

It's loud, and shrill, and positively the worst sound to have to wake up to. Mickey startles awake, upright and clearly disturbing the person settled down next to him. He glances down to see Mandy scowl over at him, her hair matted and cheek holding a pattern from where it had been pressed into his shoulder. If Mickey's head hadn't been pounding dangerously, he would have laughed.

Glancing out the window, at his watch at the same time, Mickey all but curses himself for having to be awake before the sun had completely risen. For a minute, he even forgets why there was an alarm blaring a few seconds ago. It comes to him, when Ian, dressed only in boxers and a shirt from yesterday, is standing by the island in the kitchen. Cursing under his breath at his own forgetfulness, Mickey gets off of the couch, rummaging the bag of pills to pull out Ian's morning dose. Pills in hand, he reaches the other male, before dropping them down into an awaiting palm.

Sleep still thick in his voice, Ian grins slowly. "Thanks, Mick. Sorry I had to wake you." 

All Mickey can do is nod, he's still utterly disoriented as he begins the daily tasks of getting his new fancy coffee machine to brew a fresh pot. He fumbles with the buttons a few times, and to anyone else it would have looked like an elderly man, dealing with technology for the first time.

The next sound he hears clearly is Mandy's giggle, she has one hand on the counter top, her head in the space between Ian's neck and shoulder to hide a yawn. "Relax, Red. Don't even try and analyse morning Mickey. His DNA has traces of vampire. That's why his skin is so pale, and his tolerance to mornings nonexistent." Then, slowly stretching her arms, she's moving closer to the smell of coffee. "Just gotta wait until he's got some caffeine in his system. Also, bro, jokes aside. Pour me a cup." 

Only a grunt in response, Mickey continues to stare grumpily at everything around him. He's sure he's hated mornings since he was a little toddler. In high school, talking to him before third period was like trying to get a pissed of Rotwiler to cooperate. This current state was an improvement he's had to work on since, joining work. But just as promise, after the first mug and a half of coffee, anything but a daze comes up in his eyes. 

"Alright, kids. Crisis fucking avoided. I'm awake-ish... Thinking waffles for breakfast, huh, Mands?" And had Mickey gotten more than three hours of sleep last night, he would have started from scratch. Instead, it's frozen ones, just thrown in the toaster. 

The first batch he serves up, is passed to Ian. Maple syrup in close reach. "You first, man. Remind me to pick up breakfast bars or somethin' for you to take quick before those meds." Without moving his eyes from the task, he serves Mandy next, taking his own into his mouth for a bite without any further technicalities.

Waffle in one hand, he listens to chorus of thank you's from both Mandy and Ian, before trying to find his phone on the coffee table. Grimacing as he finds the nearly full bottle, down to its last glass or two. He's putting that away before typing something out on his phone. He smiles at the reply, returning to the kitchen to catch Ian and Mandy in argument. 

"I'm not wearing your shirt Mandy, for the last fucking time." 

She pouts in response. "I think a women's fit may actually suit. Sue me for having a goddamn opinion." With a further jut of her lip, she drops her empty plate into the sink. 

Defeated, and in the midst of a huff, Ian then turns to Mickey with sheepish eyes. "Can I borrow one of your shirts, instead? Kinda forgot I got none of my stuff on me." 

With a nod, and gesture to his bedroom, Mickey responds. "Oh, shit, right. Listen, we gotta get you some stuff to wear. Don't think you and I fit in the same size for most things." He makes a mental note to take them to the mall sometime today, when suburban moms were in a lesser quantity. 

Minutes tick by, and Mickey sneakily takes on another cup of coffee when Ian finally stumbles out, wearing one of Mickey's longer shirts, the only way it would fit him. It's a Star Wars one, with the poster of the original movie printed onto it. Ian's eyes light up as he continues to marvel at it, and Mickey's lip quivers into a smile. 

Mandy, on the other hand groans. "No, no. Don't tell me you're into that too, Red. Mickey fucking won't shut up about Luke if you get him started. Not you too... I refuse to sit through a marathon if that's what you two geeks are about to do soon." 

Chuckling, Mickey rubs a hand across the back of his neck, while looking over at Ian. He shrugs. "What do you say then, man? All from the fucking start to end? You can wear the shirt the whole time." 

"Now that sounds like a deal. I'll let you hear my Vader impression after. Pretty sweet, if you ask me." Ian's grinning at him, ignoring Mandy and her snort, completely. "Thanks for the laon, Mick. Want us to leave you be, so you can get ready for work?" 

Finally, having decided he's had enough, Mickey leaves his empty mug be. "Actually, about that... I asked Nigel if I could have today off as well, so I could take you guys down to do one of Mandy's favorite things." He looks at the other two in the room, one by one. "How's that sound?" 

Mandy speaks, flicking at her nails. "Sounds great, Mick. But you sure you don't wanna sleep, maybe, instead?" She's doing her best to hide a frown.

Simply shaking his head at her concern, Mickey moves in the direction of his room. Calling over his shoulder. "Please, I ain't that fuckin' old yet. I'mma take a shower and then we'll roll." 

He does just that, turning the water on as cold as it can go so he's right on his toes for the rest of the day. Head shaking around, water droplets are getting all over floor as Mickey manages to somehow get himself into the tight jeasn. He's sporting a basic t-shirt and black leather jacket on top, because the chill is still more than present most days. 

Grabbing a spare jacket for Ian, he makes his way out of the room, one hand going through his dark hair to try and adjust it. Mandy's changed out of her pajamas too, perched up on one of the barstools in the kitchen. She looks him over once, and snorts.

"When'd you learn how to dress nicely? I remember these awful fucking baggy jeans. They only made you look shorter." 

Mickey narrows his eyes at her, more or less pushing the clothing in his hands onto Ian's shoulders. He's about to reply, when the redhead's muscled shoulders are distracting him. Cussing under his breath, he moves away, only then a addressing his sister. "Shut the fuck up. The only style you got is tramp. Let's go." 

At first, she scowls over at him, but then with her flipped over her shoulder, Mandy grabs Ian's hand, leading him along with her. "Come on you, grumpy motherfucker... You know my style is just, unique. Where you taking us?" 

Like some sort of crack addict, Mandy bounds off towards the elevator. She's excited about life in a way, that you can't just explain. In ways she wasn't before the incident. All of a sudden, life's got a new meaning to her. 

It makes Mickey smile, keeping it to himself. He turns to lock the door, when he sees Ian leant again the wall next to it. He's got Mickey's jacket, around himself, a hand pulling at the collar so he can sniff it with this warm sigh right after. The whole thing has Mickey's lips twitching, and they shouldn't. This is Mandy's friend, someone who's gone through fuck knows what all. But none of that means, Mickey can't still admire.

"Thanks for the loan, Mick. I really gotta find a way to repay you for all this." 

Pushing the keys into his pocket, Mickey scratches the side of his chin, knuckles grazed by the slightest bit of stuff that is growing there. "All you need'a to for me, man. Is keep her and yourself fucking far from needing to go back to that place. I won't survive it again." He laughs weakly, gesturing that they both should start moving.

A warm hand is on his shoulder, squeezing, and Ian's soft green eyes are on him. "You're doing really good. You're taking care of her, me. It's a lot more than most people can manage. She's gonna be okay because of you." Ian moves his hand then, pressing for the elevator.

They step in, and stuck on the words in his throat, Mickey smiles a thanks at Ian, instead. They're getting down to the parking lot to find Mandy already there, standing by the shotgun seat. She looks at the two of them with a smile. "Took you losers long enough. Where we going?" 

Pressing the button to unlock the car, Mickey waits until the rest of the car fills up, before he gets in himself. "It's a fucking surprise. You'll just have to wait and find out." 

Just like the last time, the drive is void of chatter, but the radio is put on high, and there's some sing along going on. Mandy and Ian are taking to it, like it's some kind on duet Glee, and when a particular lyric he favors is going, even Mickey will hum. The car's far from the Chicago city life, deep into the outskirts, and that's when Mickey feels a pair of hands shaking his shoulders. His sister shakes his excitedly.

"We're going to Tony's, aren't we? Mick, fuck, you are the best brother ever. I can't believe it, it's been so long!" By the time she's finished, the car is pulling over to park in the middle of a small building and a track. She lunges forward, kissing his cheek before bolting out of the car. 

Shouting a welcome, after her, Mickey turns to see Ian sitting there, with red brows raised high. Mickey chuckles, as he joins the fresh air outside. "Biking track, man. Fun the Milkovich way, thought I fuckin' warn ya', don't fall for any innocent act of Mandy's. She's lethal when it comes to competition." 

Mickey lights up a cigarette, shoving the opposite end into his mouth as he and Ian move to walk towards where a man has Mandy wrapped up in a hug, lifting and twirling her around.

The man, Tony himself, finally puts her back onto her feet, arm still slung around her small shoulders. "Mickey, gosh darn it! You could have mentioned you were bringing this squirt back here. I woulda' had her old baby oiled and ready." He then turns towards Mandy, gently bopping her on the nose. "You get all my cards, Mandy? That teddy? Jesus, girl, you gave this old man a reason to watch his weakening heart." 

"Sorry, Tony. But I'm all good, see. And I want to fucking pedal down. I'm gonna go quickly check out what you got available right now." She's planting a kiss to his cheek, wrinkled, but his kind face is listing up. 

Once she's out of sight, Tony moves closer, rubbing a hand along Mickey's upper back, before clapping him once on the shoulder. "You did good, son. I'm proud of ya', really am. You're more than that last name of yours." Then he gives Ian a smile. "Hey, newcomer. You best be ready to have a blast. Join us a selection quick, you two." 

It's only the two of them, then, lingering back to give Mickey enough time to finish off his cigarette. Ian toes aimlessly at the ground, before speaking. "He's really nice. An uncle or something?"

Screwing up his nose at the thought of it being as so, Mickey shakes his head rapidly. Putting the remaining bud out with his foot. He begins the explanation as they start walking. "Before I was old enough to go on fuckin' runs, my 'ol man would leave us back with Tony. He was mom's friend. And raised as better than that son of a bitch ever could. So you excited to ride out?" 

Ian looks at each of the rugged motorcycles, before stepping back, his head hanging lower all of a sudden. "Nah. I don't know the first thing about using one of these things." 

Bumping his shoulder with the redhead's, Mickey gives him a small smirk. "Don't fucking sweat it, Gallagher. You can hitch a ride with me. I'd let you tag behind Mandy, but then fuck, your ass is gonna land flat on the ground." He passes Ian one of the bulky helmets. "Put this on, I'll go pick out the right Harley." 

Leaving Ian, back with Tony and his sister, Mickey picks the one he's most familiar with. Rustic, vintage and all black. It's also big enough to make the second rider feel safe about falling off. He grabs the handles, working it towards the trio. He snags a helmet for himself, pushing the shield in front of his eyes to the side. It's making his smile grow so damn wide, taking in this whole scene. Doing what he loves, with people he's fond of. This is the kind of life he's got now, and still sometimes he needs to pinch himself to make sure it's real. And not just a dream, from a boy living back in the ghetto. 

Bikes get lined up, one right next to the other. Tony has his own, as does Mandy. Mickey gets comfortable on the wearing down leather, waiting till Ian's sat behind him. "Hold on tight, okay? Squeeze my waist if you want me to slow down or shit. Don't push ya'self to like this." 

Not exactly sure when he turned into this almost protective figure, Mickey shakes his head with a snort. Nonetheless, he's not ready to step down onto the gas until he feels Ian relax against him, arms wound tight. It's no race, not yet, and Mandy's bike is heard roaring to life, as she speeds down the track, Tony right behind her. 

When Mickey finally presses onto the clutch, and the bike takes off like a rush of air, he feels light, free. He did this a lot as a teenager, it always made him feel in charge, the one calling the shots and able to do what he wanted. He revels in that feeling. Ian's doing good behind him, slowly beginning to relax further, fingers no longer gripping tightly into the leather fabric he's got on. He tests the waters, takes the looped turn, before speeding up a little. No sign of shying away yet, and so when they're all back at the start, Ian consents to a race going down.

Tony purposly throws away his chance at winning, and takes it slower than he needs. He's letting the Milkovich siblings, have at it. Mickey does a quick glance to the side, to see his sister neck and neck with him. He leans back then, into Ian, letting him know to be calm, and that it'll be okay. After that, he really puts a bite into the speed, and does end up getting to the end before Mandy. 

Upon her arrival, Mandy brings the motorbike to a jerky stop, waiting for Mickey to get off his own one, before chucking her helmet hard at him. "You prick." 

As much as he never wants to see a scowl that bad of Mandy's face, he just snorts, rubbing the knee it came in hard contact with, luckily that wasn't the leg, with the bullet wound. "Ease up, bitch. I won, fair and fuckin' square." He then lends a hand to Ian, helping to get the helmet off. "Have fun, champ?"

Hair wild and a mess on his head, Ian nods rapidly, his eyes shinning in this way which is making it real hard for Mickey to remember that boundaries are important. He puts them back up.

Ian replies. "That was so awesome! And smooth too, you're good at that. Sorry, Mandy." He jumps of the bike then, taking Mandy's back towards where the rest of them are. 

Tony is waiting there for them with a smile, pressing a kiss to the top of Mandy's head so she'll stop pouting. "I'd love to hang on longer, but you know the wife will hear none of that. Drop by more often, son." He once again, giving Mickey this fatherly hand on the shoulder. "Bye, Princess. I can't wait to have you back here." This one is directed to Mandy, and he offers Ian a polite wave.

Staring off after the elderly man, Mickey closes his eyes a second. That need for parental gestures may have shrunk over the years, but when it's there, being offered. He's quietly enjoying it. 

An arm slung around either boy's shoulder, Mandy tries to steer all three of them back towards Mickey's car. "Mall for Ian's wardrobe, then some dinner, because it's past lunch and I am starved." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. Late.. And kinda short. BUT YOU SEE I GOT FINALS GOING ON REAL SOON AND I'VE BEEN SWAMPED WITH THAT. I wrote this one bit by bit at night. Writing helps he wind down.
> 
> Soooooo, Ian and Mickey so close on a bike? Ian in Mickey's jacket, Mick trying not to ravage him because of that. Woah, woah ;)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this piece and continue with the story. Leave me some kudos and comments. Yes, no, maybe so!?  
> Till next time, you beautiful people <3 Mwah!


End file.
